The Two Joneses

I. It was the lst of March, in the yete of grace 18 - . In a merchant's office, not f ar from Cheapside, a little inan Bat at a liigh desk, trying hard, apparently, to keep one eye on the rows of figures before him and the other on the office clock. Failing in thifi, his glances traversed froin the one to the other with pendiüum-liko regularity. At last the clock struck the wished-for hour of 6, and the little man simt the big ledger with a bang, and, after loeking it up oarefiilly in the ottice safe, dashed into a clipboard, and began a hasty but careful toilet, involvïng great splashing of water, and much violent exercise with a stümpy nail-briish. Evan Jones was nominolly inanaging clerk, and really general factótum, to the firra of Borwick & Browu, hard-wood inerchants. He was 50 years of age, short, fat, and good-natured, though a little peppery at times. He had a numerous family, whom he found it anything but easy to feed and bring up on his modest salary of 50 shillings a week. With strict economy, however, he managed just to make both ends meet. Not for him were the breezy sands of Ramsgate or the cliestnut avenues of Hanipton court. Not for him werè the mild Havana or the fragrant cigarette. He had no vices and desired no luxuries. One indulgence alone in the course of the year did he permit himself. He was a Welshman to the backbone, and herein lay his one extravagance. Oome what might, and however depressed the condition of the domestic money market, he was always present at the dinner of the "United Welshmen" on St. David's day. The necessary guinea was to Jones as much as a hundred to many of the other guests who assembled at the banquet in question - a sum to be seraped together by infinite sacrifice and self-denial. But, Though back and sidcs go bare, Though liauds and f eet go cold, as the old song says, seraped together it must be, by hook or by crook. For nearly a week prior to the present occasion, Evan's dinner had consisted of a saveloy and a penny roll ; and on the day of our story he had taken no food whatever. since llis frugal breakfast, iatending to compénsate himself handsomeiy for his abstinence at the expense of the "United Welshmen." He had, in truth, gone so long without food as to feel a little exhausted ; but he consol ed himself with the thought of the splendid appetite he should carry to the festive board ; and, having at last completed his toilet, he shut up the office and started for the hostelry, where the dinner was to be held, feeling at least six feet high, and humming Ar hyd y nos with patriotic energy. At alrnost the same moment when Evan Jones started on bis journey, a tall, handsome man, íb faultless evening attire, stepped out of a West End mansion, outside of which a brougham was waiting. A graceful little lady, with a bright, girlish face, accompanied him to the hall door. "You won't be very late, Owen, will you ?" she said, coaxingly. " Not very early, I am afraid, pet. We Welshmen are rare fellows for keeping it up; and if I carne away bef ore all the national toasts liad been duly honored I should never hearthe last of it." "Very well, dear; then I suppose I mustn't expectyou till Isee you. I hope you will have a pleasant evening. Don't take too much wine," she continucd laughingly. "Can't answer for myself on such an occasion," her husband responded. " Xhe tavern," he said to the coachman, and, kissing his hand to his wife, in a few moments was whirled out of sight. ii. The " United Welshmen " hadfmished their dinner, and had made considerable progress with their dessert. Each man wore attached to his button-hole a wonderful composition of green and white satin and silver filigree, which was supposed (by dint of making believe very much indeed) to represent the "leek," sacred to the occasion. A. perfect hurricane of ra's and i's and p's and 's and mj's flew about the room, only ceasing for a few moments when the Ohairmau rose to propose a toast, or the ba nis at the far end of the banquet hall tuned their harps for some Cambrian melody. Evan Jones was seated at the festive board, but, alas, no longer the pick-andspan Evan Jones who had but a couple of hours earlier lef t the office of Messrs. Borwick & Brown. His careiuiiy brushed hair was now rough and disheveled, his face red, his shirt-front limp and crumpled, his utterance thick, and his general appearance that of a gentleman who has dined "not wisclv, but too well. " Poor Evan had been by no nieans immoderate in his potations, but he had so weakened himself by long fastingthat the little he had taken had an exaggerated effectupon him, and he was rapidly becoming argumentative, not to tsay ppgnacious. It was an article of faith witli him, eveu in his sober moments, that he was in some mysteriouH way conneeted with the last of the Welsh Kings, and in his present elevated condition this idea took poseession of his mind with dotibled emphasis. He had more than onoc commenced a seatence beginning, "As a 'scendant of Llewellyn,"but without getting aliy farther. Ai the second railure his left-hand neighborj to whom the observation was addressed, replied profnnely, "O, blow LleWeÜyn !" Evan Jones looked at hini for a Moment with .an expreBsioii of immeasurable scoiii and disgust, and then turned to his righthand neighbor: " 'S a deshendant of Llewellyn, 'pears to me - as a 'scendant - of - and then stopped again. 11 Cwln uüg ïwyn bora dwmnath cwlyd llimaoh bah," replied his right-hand neighbor. " Dwyllog lwnimo gwlíoch y dina'ños," reniíirked another of the party. ' ' Cwlla gwyn dwylleth dym da y cwi bala llewelly caerloc," responded Jones, whose tongue was loóse enough in his native Welah, and who would probably have continued in tlïe samo strain for some time, had not the Ohairman requested attentiou for the " March of the Men of Harlech," whicli was abont to be given by the ohoir. Jones sat still during the chorus, with hend and haud keeping tipsy time to tl; mepeure ; but his soul waxed hot within him under the influente of the inspiring strains, and no sooner had they ceased thnn he wildly got upon his legs, and said in a loud, thiek voice : " Mis'r Chairman, I shay ! '8 a humble represent'tive: - I mean ancestor - I mean 'scendant - of Llewellyn, I don't think this 'spicione occasion - I shay I don't think this 'spieious 'casion " Here there were loud cries of "Order!" "Chair!" "Sit down!" and Jones was pulled violently down by the coat-tails by one of his neiglxbors. The gcntlemanly-lookiug man to whom we have alluded in our flrst chapter was Jones' vis-a-vis at tlie table. ïhe scène was so luilicrous that he could not repress a Fsmile, which was obsérved by Evan, whose choleric temper fired up instantly at the su23posed affront," Wha' th' devil you grinning at, look you?" " Did I smile? I really beg your pardon ; but I am quite sure I was not ' grinning,' as you cali it." "You did, sir; you grinned like - like Cheshire cat, sir. I appeal to th' gen'lmen present. You've 'sulted me, sir - 'sulted me grossly. Name's Jones ; very good name; 'scendant of Llewellyn; and I 'mand 'sfaction of a gen'lman." " My name is Jones, too, though I haven't the honor of being a descendant of Llewellyn. There is my card, sir ; and if when you come to your own senses you desire to apologize for your unseem'ly behavior, I shall be happy to see you." Evan's right-hand neigMSor thrnst the card, which bore the inseription : Mi. Owbn Jones, 99 Winslow square, Belgravia, S. ir., into Evan's waistcoat pocket, and the owner, by no rneans desirous of bcing involved'in an nfter-dinner brawl, moved away to another part of the table. By dmt of a little humoring those around managed to soothe tbo fiery Evan iuto comparative tranquillity, and, alter a few more desultory observations, whercin bis descent from Llewellyn still played a prominent part, he leant back in bis chair, and was speedily f ast asleop. The toasts carne to an end at last, the bards packed np tbeir harps, and the last of the guests departed, leaving Evan Jones atill sound asleep in his chair. A council of waiters was held over the slumbering liero, ftnd endeavors were made to rouse kim. They sb ook him, they yunclied him - but all in vain. They succeeded in getting out of bim that his name was Jones ; but to a furthêr inquiry as to wliere he lived he only ïnurïnured " 'scendant of Llewellyn," and relapsed again into stiil deeper slumbers. "You '11 have to give liim a shakedown among the empty bottles, William," said one. " Not if I know it," replied the head waiter. ' ' He might wake up in the night and walk off with the spoons. No, we must tind out where he lives, somehow. Some of you just look in his pockets, will you ? Perhaps the gent has a cardcase about him. " No sooner said than done. " Here's a card," said one, diving into Evan 's waistcoat pocket. "Mr. Owen Jones, 99 Winslow square." " That's him right enough ; lie said his name was Jones. He don't look rnuch like a Winslow square sort, does he? But there's no accounting f or these Welsh gents. Just as well he had his pasteboard about him, though, wasn't it ? or he wouldn't have got home to-night." # # It was a little aftér 11 o'clock when a four-wheel cab drove up to the door of No. 99 Winslow square. " This is Mr. Jones', ain't it ?" said the, cabman to a smart parlor-maid who answered his knock at the door. "Yes, this is Mr. Jones','' answered the maid. ' ' That's the name right enough. Here's the card they gave me : ' Mr. Owen Jones, No. 99.' Well, look here, Miss, I've brought your inaster from the Welsh dinner. He's beenenjoying of bis wine a goodish bit, I should say, and I can't wake liim up nohow." " You don't mean to say he's taken too much ?" " Well, Miss, that depends. I don't think myself, in a general way, a gen'leman can take too much ; the more the merrier, I says. But he's pretty far gone, anyhow. " The maid rushed in to her jnstress, who was sitting in the dining-room. " O, ma'am, nere's master come back in a cab from the Welsh dinner, and tbo cabman says he's fast asleep and quite tosticated." " Nonsense, Mary !" said her mistress, angrily, and advancing into the hall; " there must be some mistake." " No mistake, ma'am, " said the cabman, touchinghishatrespectfully; " I've brought the gent from the Wekh dinner, and here's his card." "Good heavens !" said Mrs. Jones, recognizing her husband's card, "it is too trae. O, dear, how ever shall I survive this shocking disgrace ? Mary, go down stairs; I know I can rely uponyou not to say a word of this dreadful misfortune tothe other servauts." Mary retired accordingly, and Mrs. Jones continued: "Cabman, I must ask you to assist Mr. Jones up to his bed-room; it is the front room on the first floor; you will find the gas ready -lighted. -I eau give you no help; for I think it would killme to see him in such a condition." "Lor', don't take on so, ma'am," said the cabman, good-naturedly; "it ain't nothing when you're used to it. Why, some o' them nobs does it every night. My old bor.se '11 stand as stendy as a . churcli, and I'll have the gouelmoia up stairs ia a jiffy." Poor Mrs. Jones returned iuto the dining-room, holding her haudkercbief to her cyes; after a ruoment's pause she was made aware, by a sort of scuffling in the passage, accompanied by exclamations of "Wo-ho," " holdup," andothcr ejaculations of a horsey nature, that the eabman was assisting Mr. Jones np stairs. After an interval of about ten raiautes, which seemod an age, lie reappeured it tlie diniiig-rbohi door, and sidj ili a confidential manner: " I've got the gent into bed qnite comfortable mum. He was a little orkard to undress, but I done him at last, proper; and he's sleeping like a babby." Mrs. Jones dismissed the man with a fee beyond his wildest expectations, and resumed her seat, fecliiig as if hol' peace of inind was lost. Siae feit that sho nevor could have the sftme respect for her husband agiiin. He, who had always been a model of all that was dignified and gentlemanly, a very pattern husband, to eonie home helplessly drunk from a tavern dinner ! It was incredible; and yet the fact was beyond question. Surely there must be some mystery about the matter. Could lie be ill? But no; he had never boen in better health than when he lelt her a few hours previeusly, and to Beüd for a doctor would only be to publish his disgraee. Could his wiue have been dmggeci ? But surely at a public dinner, at fi first-rate place of entertiiinment, this was equally out of the question. There scemed no alternative but to suppose that, oarried away by the excitement of the occasion, Mr. Jones had fallen into one of those sudden frailties to whioh poor human nature, even that of the noblest, is subject. At first, the weeping wife had feit as if the offense was beyond all pardon; but gradually a softer feeling came over her, and she feit that, though the wrong could never be forgotten, it might in time be possible to forgive it. And then she mentally rehearsed the painful scène which would take place between herself and her erring husoand on his return to consciousness and self-respeot; and she had just arranged a few little speeches, to be spoken more in sorrow than in anger, when suddenly a latch-key was heard in the door, and in walked Mr. Jones himself, ralm and unruffled, without a hair out of place, or a crease on his snowy shirt-front. Mrs. Jones gazed at him a moment, scarcely believing her own eyes. " Owen ! - and sober !'.' she exclaimed; then flung herself into his arms, and went into a fit of decided hysterics. "My darling wife, what on eartli is the matter?" "Oh, Owen, lam so thankful !" said the little wife, as soon as her sobs would let her speak. "I am so thankful ! But, then, who is the man in our bed ?" .."The man in our bed?" said Mr. Jones. " Whatever do you menu ?" "Oh, Owen, dear, you can't teil what I have gone through. A cab carne half an hourago, and brouglit you home from the dinner; at least the eabman said it wás you, very tipsy and fast asleep, ánd he had your card; and so I told him to put you- I mean to say him - in our room, and there he is now." "The devil he is!" said Mr. Jones. "I must have a look at this doublé of mine;" and, seizing a canclle, he strode up-stairs. Prcsently hc agam entered the room. "I think I see how the mistake happened," said he. "This fellow up-stairs was at the dinner to-night, and had had more than was good for him at an early period of the evening. He was rather rude to me ; but it was no use to be angry with a man in such a condition ; so I merely handed him my card, and told him when he returned to his senses he might come and apologize, though I can't say I had much expectation that he would. What became of him afterward I cannot say. I smoked a cigar with our friend Griffiths, and then walked leisurely home. Meanwhile, I suppose, this fellow was too drunk to answer for himself ; and, finding my card about him, they assiimed ifc was his own, and sent him here accordingly. The only thing that puzzles me is that you didn't find out the mistake." " Well, dear, to teil yon the truth, I was so sbocked and borrified that 'you sliould bc, as I supposed, in sucli a condition that I would not even see you, or let Mary do so either ; so I sent her down stairs, and told the cabman to take the wretched man up to out room. But whatever shall we do now ? The idea oí' a fllthy, dranken wretch in our bed ! It's too horrible." "We muetn't be too hard upon him, dear. I could see at a gianee that he was one of our poorer brethren ; I dare say, a hard-woiking, sober man enough in a general way, but the temptation of a good dinner and unlimited liquor was too much tor him. Besides, dear, we must consider the occasion. It is the immemorial privilege of every Welshman to get drunk, if he likes, on St. David's day. Someof uswaive it, butthat's not to tiie purpose. We must move into the spare room for to-night, that's all. You had better give Mary orders accordingly ; and at the same time it will be as well to restore my blackened character by showing her that I am not quite so f ar gone as she imagines." Mrs. Jones rang tlie bell. "Oh, Owen," ;she said, kissing hiin fondly, and still wavoring between smiles and tears, "it is such a relief, I can't teil you. I am so thankful it wasn't you." Mary's face, when she opened the door, was a picture. "Lor, nia'am! Lor, sir !" she said, looking from one to the other. " It is all right, Mary," said her mnster. " You will be relieved to hear that the gentleman up-stairs is another Mr. Jones. There has been a little mistake, that's all; and your mistress and I aro going to Sleep in the spare room. ni. Evan Jones woke on the morniug following the eventful dinner hot and feverish, with a tremendous headache, and an agonizing feeling of thirst. "O, my poor head !" he groaned. " Betsy, my gal," imagining his wife was beside him, ' ' for mercy's sake get out, and give me a drink o' water, and thcre's a good soul." There was no answer. " I s'pose she's gone down stairs. O, lor, my head !" and he tried to settle himself to sleep again, but his parched throat was unbearable. " I must have a drink of water if' I die for it;" and he unwilliugly opened his yes and drafrged himself into a sitting position. "Hallo !" he exolaimed, as his eyes feil on lus unaccustomed surroundings. " Where the deuce have I gat to, and how on earth did I comohere? Why, it's liko a fairy tale. I must be a nobleman in disguise, or one of them foundling hospital chaps come into a fortune. Jones, you old fooi, you're dreaming. I aiu't, thongh. Lor, wliat al) éd ! and lace cyrtains and marble table; and wliat a lot o' looking-glii.s.'K s ! 'Pon my word, I sliould like ncver to gei np aiiy moto. I must have a glasa of water, though. Ah ! that's just hoavenly. Now let me tlriuk ix bit. How (lid I como Itere? Let's see, wliat was yesterday ? Yes, it must have been yesterday that I went to the Welsli dinner. I remember going, but I don't remember going away; and, judging from my hcadthis moi'ning, I'm afrflid I must liave been uneonamon aérewed. And i been home nll [night. My eyes, what'll Betsysay? I shall never hear the last of it to my dying dny.'' At this moment our hero's refiections were intcrrupted by a knock ut the ehamber door. " Come in !" lie shouted, incautiously; " at least, no; don't come in - I mean, what is it ?" The voioe of Mary, the parlor-maid, replied: "Master's compliments, and lie says breakfast is ready for yon, sir, wkenever yon can come down stairs." "My respects to your master, and I'll be down directly, miss," answered Jönes. "WeÜ, that's a comfort, anyhow," he soliloquized, "for 'pon my word, Ididn't kiiow whether I mightn't be given in eustody for sleeping in other people's beds under false pretensos; ór embezzling anotlier gent's house, or something of that sort. How the deuce did I get here, that's what beats me !" Still vainly trying to solve the enigma Evan made a hurried toilet, and flnally, with bis head still aching as if it would split, and looking a wreek of yesterday's greatness, he lei't the room and crept softly down stairs. The evidence of wealth and luxury on every side, so nnlike his own lmmble belongings, quite awed kim, and, liaving found íiis way down, he would not venture into any of the sitting-roomra, but modestly took his Seat on a chair in the hall, and wuited for the devclopment of events. Here he was found after a few moments by Mr. Owen Jones, who wished him a friendly good-morning. "I'veseen you somewhere, I know, sir," said Evan; "but I can't for tüe life of me teil where." "Oan'tyou?" said his host, smiling. ' ' We were both at the Welsli dinner last night, and one of us took a little too much." A light suddenly flashed across Evan's mind. " I remember now, sir. I'm afraid I was very rude to you." "Well, you were a little plain-spoken, and I gave you my card, and told you if yon wished to apologize you would know where to find me. I must say I didn't expect you would have come quite so soon, though. The fact is, you were brought here by the mistake of a cabman, who supposed my card was your own." "I'm sure I humbly beg your pardon, sir," said pooi' Evan, completely crestf allen. " I can't think how I carne so to disgrace myself ; but to teil you the truth, sir, I'd had to pinch a bit to buy my ticket, aud all day yesterday I liadn't tasted bit or sup since breakfast, and when it came to dinner-time I was that fuint and weak that the very first glass seemod to set my head all swimming like. I'd let it go too long, sir ; that's what it was. I humbly ask your pardon, I'm sure, for the trouble I'vc caused, and I thank you kindly for giving me a night's Shelter. I feej I don't deservë your kindness, sir ; but I'm gratdfj.il, I assure you." And with tears in his eyes Evan moved humbly to the hall-door to depart. "No, no," said Mr. Owen Jones; "youmustn't think of going without your breakfast. We are all Welsh here ; and if a brother Welshman does take a glass too much on St. David's day, we know how to make allowanees for him. Come, step in here. We have had breakfast an hour ago ; but Mrs. Jones is waiting to give you yours." Looking very shamei'aced and repentant, Evan Jones followed his namesake into the breakfast parlor, where Mrs. Jone, who had heard his humble confession and apology, gave him a kindly greeting, and he was soon seated before a snowy table-cloth, aud, as well as his headache would let him, enjoyed a plenteous repast. During the meal his entertainers drew him out, and were speedily behind the scènes as to his daily life and his hard struggles to keep the wolf from the door ; and when he finally took his leave a well-filled basket was waiting for him in the hall to take home as a present to the children. Nor was this by any means the . last which found its way to. the same quarter, sent by the same friendly hands ; and I am sorry to say that of all days that held ia the highest veneration by the little Joneses is ' ' the day when papa got so dreadfully tipsy at the Welsh dinner." # I feel that there must be a moral to this story somewhere, but I can't quite see where it lies. You can't cali it exactly i temperance story, because, you observe, Evan Jones got a good night's lodging and made a couple of kind i'riends by getting drank - which is not poetical justice by any means. After much anxious consideration, the only safe moral I can see is that a married lady should never order any gentleman, however tipsy, to be put in her own bed without making quite sure, in the first place, that he is the gentleman who rightfully belongs to -London Society. We cannot warrant the purity of the aulhor's Welsh.- [Ei.